Another week another defeat snatched from the jaws of victory, another great day running the line…
Loud Mouth John gave us all a team talk before the game, yelled at us throughout, told us to keep winding up the opposition so they’d get sent off, yelled out “They’ve got nothing SV!” all game and bellowed all half-time… and then I found out he wasn’t actually the captain.
Andi was captain (I think) and had a spectacular game even by his standards.
Goal 1) Long through ball, Andi kicks ball at striker, striker kicks ball in empty net.
Goal 2) Andi takes goal kick, doesn’t return to goal, 5 seconds later other team kick ball in empty net.
Goal3) Penalty, scuffed straight down the middle very slowly staright at Andi. Manages to avoid ball using legendary Ostenstiker monouver.
Goal 4) Not actually his fault but a good shot off the post and in.

We had a special guest striker who used to be on the books of someone professional and was OK (me and Chris set him up for tap-ins). Fair enough that he and Chris start up front – they are probably better than me but Chris is not a forward and new bloke didn’t look like one either. They managed one goal inthe first 75 mins. Paul the useless forward played 75 mins at left midfield then I came on. Why not play shoot Paul through the gizzards and let Chris play wide with me and superstar up front?!
I was promised half an hour and got about 15 mins by which time I was ready to leave and never come back again. I wasn’t in the mood at all when I was finally admitted to the field of play. We scored twice when I came on and I set one of those up but I was not very good at all even though Andi said I “changed the game in our favour”.
Can I, we, really continue to give up our Sunday mornings for this tripe and pay for the privilage? Do we hate ourselves this much?

(I have taken 5000 aspirin, by the time you read this it will be too late)